


Fight me, brown eyes

by winter_hare



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, I don't think there are many warnings, M/M, and a bit of violence because swords but no battle or blood or anything, and slavery I guess, auguste has a boyfriend though so he's busy, auguste is 19 or 20, but I mean if you're here for captive prince you understand, but also really booky and nerdy, but don't worry no sin here, damen is fucking oblivious as always, damen is like 18, forced friendship, he means no harm, he's also in line for the throne, it doesn't really make sense okay but it works, kastor is just a troubled boy, laurent is 16, laurent is kinda spoiled, laurent is really sweet and has a cruuuush, like maybe swearing, nicaise is still 14 fight me okay, regent who I don't know her, sfw, they have to be friends because the countries are allying, this will probably be mostly innocent fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-11 09:43:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13521606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winter_hare/pseuds/winter_hare
Summary: Laurent is living his life happily as a spoiled 16 year old, but his plans for leisure are destroyed when he is "required to befriend" the (gorgeous) oaf from Akielos to "show cross country bonds" or some other bullshit. - Aka everyone is happy and alive except for Laurent he's kinda pissed.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay! this is my first time writing Damen and Laurent, so don't crucify me if it's not perfect? I hope you like it?? (First lil chappie is kinda small, around 2k words)

-Laurent-

“Oh come on Laurent, it won’t be that bad, just tolerate the guy for a couple weeks and then he’ll be gone. I’m sure he’s just as happy about this as you are.” Laurent looked at his brother, a scathing glimmer in his blue eyes. 

It was the night before the Akielons arrived, and a certain prince was less than happy. Laurent had been told a week or so prior, about how he was to befriend the Akielon prince, Damianos. Damianos was a few years older than him, but since Auguste was both the crown prince, and courting a suitor, he was deemed exempt from simple duties such as this. They were to befriend each other in the name of showing ‘cross country bonds’, so that the relationship between Akielos and Vere would seem stronger. The two young princes, friends across borders. Horsecrap is what it was. Laurent wanted nothing more than to curl up in his chambers, work on his studies, maybe read a novel; anything but toy with the intricacies of the royal court. He was sixteen, he should be able to do whatever he wanted to. 

“I don’t even know what he’s like, he could be a brute. You’ve seen what the Akielons are like Auguste, you’ve even met him!” Laurent ran a slender hand through his hair, feeling the agitation rolling off himself in waves, clashing with the cool undisturbed aura of his older brother. Auguste put down his quill, laying aside the letter he was writing, and turned fully to his brother, sprawled on a daybed next to a window. 

“Damianos is kind, he will treat you with the politeness that has been taught to him, he may be Akielon but he is still royalty. It is a lovely country Akielos, you have just only been told of the most barbaric stories. They treat friends well, but do not tolerate enemies. I suggest you make an effort to at least be fair to Damianos. Give him a chance, he is eighteen, still young enough not to be boring, and it’s not as if you’re being asked to court, stop acting as if the world is about to end,” Laurent blushed at the thought of courting Damianos, giving a snort as Auguste sat down beside where he lay, propped up on an elbow. Auguste smiled, stealing a pillow to lay on. 

“It’s not my fault I don’t want to pal around with someone I don’t know, I have my own things to do” Laurent huffed, his mind picturing an ugly, brutish and annoying prince, his only purpose in Vere to annoy him.

“Oh, right, how could I forget. The life of the bookworm recluse is very demanding” Auguste teased, eliciting a small groan from Laurent.

 

_____

 

“Are you sure I’m not being asked to court him,” Laurent asked with a grin as Auguste walked into the room, where Laurent was being dressed in an excruciatingly lacy and blue garment. 

“They’ve put me into an outfit with enough fabric and poise to drown a noblewoman and her pet” He turned his head to glance at his brother, seeing a much more sensible getup in a deeper shade of the same blue, and a simple crown in his golden hair. Auguste chuckled, walking over.

“I don’t think so, unless father has some crazy plan to join the countries once and for all. I’d say you’re fine, but that gastly perfume you’re wearing makes me think otherwise” He laughed, Laurent just about hit him in embarrassment. 

 

-Damen-

 

The halls of the Veretian palace were strange, they were so delicate yet strangely imposing in their simple intricacies. If that makes any sense, it was as if someone was trying to overpower you with class and ornate mirrors alone. You walked along then feeling out of place underdressed. Damen and his father Theomedes walked down a long hall, led by an aging Veretian man, of some high status Damen couldn't remember, and he politely tuned out what was being said. His mind slipped to his duties here, the prince. “Damianos, it is crucial we show strength with Vere, set aside our beliefs and accept the younger Veretian prince into your circles, not for long, just until our discussions in Vere are done. Prince Laurent is your equivalent and will be shown respect,” “Yes father,” he had answered, accepting his task dutifully, as much as he internally despised the thought of befriending the spoiled Veretian prince. He had met his older brother, Auguste. Auguste was a golden prince, the face of Veretian pride. Blonde, quick witted, and good with a sword. But he couldn't say the same of his younger brother. He had heard rumours of a spoiled young brat. And now he walked the halls of his completely strange palace. Damen didn’t think he could befriend anyone who was used to living in a palace like this, sickeningly lavish and over done in every place you looked. He started listening again to what was happening when his father started speaking, his lightly accented Veretian a bit odd and misplaced in the mouth of a king. 

“Kastor is keeping hold of Akielos, practise for when he is king. A good man that one. I worry it may be too stressful for him, but he tells me I’m wrong, and I’m too old to argue,” Theomedes said, laughing, a warm and familiar sound to Damen.

“Damianos here though is delighted to accompany me,” He slapped Damen on a bare shoulder, “He is thrilled to meet your prince, we have heard many stories of him.” 

“Oh I’m sure you have, Exalted. And I am sure Prince Laurent is just as thrilled,” The two men chuckled together, Damen just stood by, a false look of mild entertainment on his face. Just a couple weeks, then this will be over, he could do this, easy. 

 

_____

 

Damen didn’t think he could last another minute. He was being laced up to his chin by a demure little pet, and he itched all over in his tight garment. His loose chiton and robe abandoned, he longed again for the feeling of air on his skin. He looked in the mirror as the pet busied himself with laces, eyes downcast and sandy hair falling in his face. Damen was dressed in blue, the colour of the princes, it made him look sullen and dark. Where on lighter skin it might show contrast, it just looked out of place on his darker tones and the laces and tight sleeves looked wrong on his muscles. He wasn’t as toned as he one day might be, but he effectively dwarfed the majority of the Veretians he had come across. He adjusted the circlet in his dark hair, and waited for the knock on the door to signal for him to be escorted to the court. He would be formally presented to the members of the court and those of the royal family. He ran their names through his head. Aleron, the King, husband to the late Queen Hennike, Auguste, the Crown Prince, and Laurent, his younger brother. He knew of their family, of course he had been told of Vere, but the alliance was new, and the odd names were strange on his tongue. He was worried to misspeak in front of one of then, the Veretians surely think him a barbarian, and it is imperative he prove them otherwise. 

 

-Laurent-

 

In, and out, breathe Laurent. Laurent sat in a simple throne, his back poised and an arm draped carefully on the arm. There was a tightness in his chest, a certain anxious tenderness to his inner thoughts. You would be a fool if you thought it would show on his face though. 

The Akielons were about to enter, there was an empty throne next to his father and next to Laurent, the king and his son. They were to sit side by side, even and joined. He could see Auguste smiling next to him, so confident and bright. He tried to feed off that, but just found himself more anxious about the incoming party. He had been practicing his Aikielon, a tough and quick language, different from his mother tongue of long rolling words and elegant sentences. He assumed the Akielons would speak Veretian, but it was always best to have your bases covered. This was his court, his home, he would not be embarrassed by a foreigner in a skirt.

A horn, the doors were opening.   
“His royal Majesty King Theomedes of Akielos,” Faces turned, the shimmer of glossy hair and the jewels of pets rippled through the hall, all turning to see the powerful looking man striding in in red. A lion pin on his great chest, he was presented to Aleron. The kings greeted and shook, then the voice rung out again. 

“His royal Highness Prince Damianos of Akielos,” Laurent stiffened. Damianos walked into the hall, he looked uncomfortable and out of place in the Veretian clothing he wore, but he still gave off such an air of confidence and power. A young soldier heading quickly into his prime. His copper skin shone in the light of late afternoon and the torches. Dark curls adorned in gold sat atop his head, and as he swept to the thrones Laurent could practically feel the strength he could wield. This was Prince Damianos, a champion, a warrior. How was he supposed to get along with this?! He was not the person Laurent had expected to walk through that door, partly because this was not a person, this was a lion in the shape of a man. 

So distracted, Laurent nearly missed Damianos’ approach to him. He had already greeted his father and his brother, Laurent was last in line. Damianos bowed his head, still inches taller than Laurent, and offered his hand to Laurent. 

“My brother, I am honoured that we meet at last” His voice was sweet and warm, carrying easily over all those who must hear the proceedings. He could still hear his thickly disguised accent. 

“The honour is mine brother. Welcome to Vere,” Laurent grasped Damianos’ hand, his pale skin shockingly white next to the tan caramel of the other prince. Damianos shook his hand with a sturdy, yet caring grace. A tenderness Laurent had not expected. 

Minutes passed, he could feel him next to him. All the eyes of the court flitting between the strange new faces on the thrones and the oddly dressed guards. There was a display in the centre of the room, some sort of play with swords and armour. Damianos was following it carefully. 

Minutes more passed, Damianos grew more comfortable in his perch next to Laurent. Laurent followed his movement carefully, assessing this new addition to his life. 

Laurent could hear Theomedes’ deep laugh mixed with his brother’s low voice. He suddenly realized he had not said a thing to Damianos, who had been sitting silently next to him for quite some time now, simply watching the performance. What would he say? How do you start a conversation like this, across thrones, in front of the court? It was not a simple matter, it was one to be dealt with carefully, with poise and el- 

 

“Are the robes always this tight? I feel I might suffocate,” Damianos let out a soft chuckle, pulling at one of his sleeves, and Laurent could feel a blush on his cheeks.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys like this, i'm sorry it took so long to update! And thank you for all your kudos and lovely comments! <3

Laurent

Laurent fell down into his bed sheets, exhaling deeply. He curled himself in the soft down covers and pulled at the tight bows at his throat. He couldn't decide between thinking about it, or shoving it down, far back into his mind. It, being the other prince. Damianos. Damianos and his searching gaze, his brown eyes, his warm grip. It formed together in Laurents mind in the shape of a strong and powerful eighteen year old, one he now had to befriend. Laurent thought Damianos reminded him of a tapestry, a depiction of an ancient warrior, all muscles and beautiful curls. Laurent squeezed his eyes shut and let out a frustrated huff. He had said less than three sentences to him and now he was acting like this? Damianos was supposed to be in Vere for at least a number of weeks, Laurent then set his resolve to keep himself firmly impartial to the prince. If he got attached then he would just be taken away, easy. This mentality is maybe why one of Laurents only allies was his brother. 

 

Laurent sighed, his neck free of the constraining ties. He sat up and looked in a mirror across from the bed he was on. His blonde hair was ruffled, and his ears were pink, poking out like strawberries against his milky complexion. His face looked young, younger than it did usually. He felt vulnerable and soft, like he just wanted to curl up, this was not a feeling Laurent was used to. His usual was the cool steely prince everyone was used to. This was the sixteen year old inside him, poking out and testing the waters. Laurent intended to squash him. 

 

There was a knock on the door, Laurent straightened his back and called for them to come in.

A member of his guard stood there, the hilt of his sword glinting in the night air. 

“A message for your highness, Prince Damianos of Akielos wishes to see the grounds tomorrow, The King insists you accompany him, Exalted” Laurent exhaled, that couldn't be bad. 

“Of course. Tell my father that I will be delighted” Laurent couldn't have declined if he had wanted to, this was his duty while the Akielons were in Vere. 

The guard closed the door to his chamber leaving Laurent with his thoughts again. Thoughts of a brash and forward prince.

 

\---

 

Laurent had risen hours before, he was dressed, groomed, and ready to ride. He would be taking Damianos on a tour of the royal grounds on horseback, just as Laurent had requested. Laurent excelled at riding, hunting, long distance, races, you name it, and Laurent had beaten the best in Vere at it. Even so, Laurent felt agitated, anxious, for no good reason at all he told himself, and he continued to tell himself as Damianos rode up on a beautiful Chestnut mare. 

 

“Prince Laurent!” He called, waving an arm in the air. He was clad in light riding leathers, much more skin born for any to look upon. He looked much more comfortable than he had the night prior. He slowed his horse and slid off with ease, passing the reins to a stable boy. He walked over to Laurent, who stood next to his own horse. Damianos reached out a hand to greet Laurent, who, when he grasped the other princes hand, realized just how delicate and pale he looked. Damianos shook his hand like a friend, maybe he was much more used to making forced acquaintances than Laurent. 

 

“Thank you, for showing me around the grounds,” He smiled, letting his hand fall back into place by his side, a little grin on his face. 

“Of course Damianos, it is my pleasure,” Laurent returned the smile. He spoke again, hitching a leg up on his horse “Shall we ride?”

 

Soon the two princes were trotting along towards the more forested outer grounds, Laurent led, knowing the best places to view the grounds. He had instructed the guards to stay back. 

Laurent risked a glance over at Damianos, he rode well, with the poised look of a prince. His skin shone in the sun, and the spring breeze tangled with the scent of flowers rustled his curls, giving him a look of such serenity. 

“The weather is lovely here, at home it would be warmer by now,” Damianos spoke softly, his manner had changed now they were in private. It was softer, less intimidating. He spoke Veretian, and his accent was slightly more pronounced than it had been the night before. It made sense, his words then would have been chosen and practised. 

“It gets awfully warm here too, we have a few more months before it gets to peak though. And spring has come early this year, the snowdrops are already blooming,” Laurent took a long breath, the air was so sweet, but still cool. It was his favourite time of year, it felt so familiar, but it must be so foreign to Damianos.

“You know flowers?” Damianos asked, and Laurent's brain momentarily shut down. Laurent cursed himself for speaking, he had hoped to never reveal to the other prince his habits of academics. Of course it is natural for a prince to be educated, but it is aswell frowned upon to not prefer sport and battle. Laurent had rarely ever enjoyed anything more than his books, and now he has just told seemingly the most physically inclined person he knew that he was interested by flora. Damianos would surely think him a pansy. Laurent could feel the hot blush on his cheeks and he turned away, suddenly unable to look at Damianos, or to feel the cool breeze. 

“What is this one called?” A soft voice asked, curiosity in his tone. Laurents breath caught, his head shot back to Damianos, seeing an almost worried look on his face at seeing Laurent as he pointed at a pale pink flower. Laurent caught himself in a smile, noise suddenly returned to the world, and with it came a new wave of blush.

“That one is Lupin, it comes in purples and whites too,” Laurent grinned, and his eyes flickered back up to the other prince. 

“Lupin,” He muttered softly, the word new to him. “I was curious about the names of the ones in Akielos, but my schooling never covered such topics” Laurent looked at Damianos with a new light in his eyes. The warrior prince who likes flowers?

“And what is that one?” Damianos pointed out another flower, closer to the ground than the tall Lupin. 

“Hellebore”

 

Damen

 

Damen watched the young prince explain the properties of a sweet blue flower growing in patches around them. His blonde hair shimmered in the sun, and his skin looked pale against his harsh blue robes. Interesting it was, seeing Laurent talk about something that interested him. He was completely different, he seemed to get caught up in it and forget the act he put on. Damen had seen the Laurent everyone sees, the cool intellectual, already past his years of young life. But this Laurent, Damen wondered if this was who he really was. He felt like he had found a secret, dug it up as sparkly as a gem. Damen didn’t however, forget the fear in Laurents eyes. He wasn’t as well guarded as last night, when he mentioned the flowers he thought he had misspoken, said something Damen would dislike in him. Did he fear Damen? Was he to Laurent the brute prince from a country of bare legs and strong wine? Damen thought to himself, then what was Laurent, the young spoiled prince with too much time and to much fabric? He grinned inwardly, that was exactly what Laurent seemed to be actually. He caught a glance from Laurent, a puzzled look on his thin face. Fuck, Damen had been smiling. Great job, convince him you’re a nutjob. 

“Damianos,” Laurent composed himself, “Tell me, how are you enjoying Vere?” 

\-----

They returned from their ride together and were greeted by guards and pets, the pets carrying trays of fruits and wines, and after mild conversation they parted ways, Damen eyeing the young prince as he sauntered away, his fine hair like gold in the sun, and his skin as pale as marble, the perfect representation of Vere. Laced tightly and beautiful, with the confidence of one much older and wiser, but hiding a soft vulnerability and an unexpected elegance. 

 

Laurent 

 

Laurent knocked on a door, a small smile on his face. 

“Yes?” As Laurent opened the door he saw his brother sitting on the bed, legs crossed and a letter in his hand. Folding it up, he grinned at Laurent, who sat on the bed next to him. 

“You seem happy, did Guion make a fool of himself again?” As Auguste spoke, his morning with Damianos was still fresh in Laurent’s mind. He could still see Damianos’ eyes, feel his smile. 

“Sadly no, but, I did however spend a completely tolerable morning with Damianos, and as much as I hate to be wrong, he might just be decent,” Auguste’s face lit up, his blue eyes suddenly bright and alive. 

“Damianos, the ugly brute from Akielos?” He said, voice dripping with sarcasm. Laurent rolled his eyes. 

“I’m kidding, anyone with eyes can tell that half the court is drooling over him. But do, tell me about your morning! What did you get up to?” Discarding his brother's words, Laurent launched into description of his morning ride. He spoke of the flowers, of his embarrassment, and then of Damianos’ kindness. A thought came to Laurent, and with a wrinkle in his brow he spoke it to his brother.

“Now I talk about it again, he probably had no interest in flowers at all, but simply in…” 

“You?” Auguste interjected, looking at his brother in interest.

Blushing, Laurent shot back. He hadn't been expecting Augustes answer, neither had it come to him.

“No, he probably was seeking only to uphold his end of the deal I'm sure he made, befriend the other prince. Simple” 

“Are you sure? Are you to much of a prude dear brother, for the possibility of a courtier?” Auguste poked, a great grin on his face, framed by golden hair.

“Auguste!” Laurent shot at his brother, eyes shooting wide.

“You are nearly seventeen, live! I'm not telling to marry the prince, who do you think I am, father? All I'm…”

“All you're doing, brother dear, is closing you mouth” Laurent held a delicate finger to his brother's chest, an unreadable look on his young face, and a new air to his posture. He held himself in contrast to Auguste. The two golden princes of Vere, on casual and the other strained, such strong presences always clashing together in waves of sweetly worded sword strokes. 

 

“I should like to meet Damianos properly, tonight, before dinner, a feast is no place to introduce yourself” August sat up higher. “Either way, I don’t think you would object to seeing your prince again” 

There was a flush on his pale cheeks. Laurent responded calmly, with an embarrassed air, choosing to ignore his brothers last comment,

“I will send a note to Damianos to meet us at the arenas before supper tonight, they are making quite the fuss in putting on a show for the Akielons” And with that, laurent stood, shot a small glare at his brother, and exited his chambers. As soon as the doors closed, a massive smile grew on his face, and his eyes were glowing with the mischievous happiness one finds only on the face of a youth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> love you lovelies!!! <3 <3 <3 let me know if i messed anything up or if i could do anything differently, or just if you have suggestions! - Addie


End file.
